


Fallout: L'étoile Finale

by lowclasshifi



Category: Fallout (Video Games)
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-13
Updated: 2016-06-13
Packaged: 2018-07-14 19:01:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7186208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lowclasshifi/pseuds/lowclasshifi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the remnants of Texas in after the Great War, a lonely saloon holds secrets that could decide the fate of the world. Several armies make their move, and at the center of it all is a Pip-Boy held by a former Caesar's Legion soldier. What choice will he make?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fallout: L'étoile Finale

Procul arranged his weapons. One pistol on his hip, another on his back, and a scoped rifle slung over his shoulder. His Pip-Boy put him somewhere in East Texas, but beyond that, he wasn’t totally sure. The pines still grew, and the swamps still had water in them. It was good to be out of the desert.  
The sun beat down over him on the ruined highway, and his clothes stuck to his body from the sweat. An air conditioned room and running water for a bath felt impossible to get out here, but he still hoped.  
He shook his canteen and drank the last few gulps from it. Not the best idea, but he had enough purifying supplies to get another full bottle or two.  
Procul walked in silence for another few miles before coming upon a bunker built into an overpass. The structure was made of scavenged concrete and scrapped cars into a single wall, with a thick steel door its only entrance. A scratchy radio voice began to speak over a megaphone rigged up to a telephone pole.  
“Halt. This is the Brotherhood of Steel. Please stay where you are. You will submit to a search before continuing.”  
Procul tipped his hat up to the speaker. “And what if I refuse?”  
“You will be denied entry, and if you attempt to cross, you will be killed on sight. Drop your weapons and put your hands in the air.”  
“Alright, you win.” Procul laid down his weapons and watched as two fully armored Paladins stepped out of the door.  
“What is your business in L’étoile Finale, citizen?” The Paladin on Procul’s right asked.  
“I’m not sure where I am, really. Don’t suppose you have brochures laying around?”  
The Paladin on Procul’s left picked up his guns and inspected them, and then went about digging through his pack. “No contraband?”  
“Not that I’m aware of.”  
The sun was finally setting, and the Paladins flipped on their head lamps. “What’s your name?” Asked Right.  
“You can call me Procul Errantem.”  
“That mean something?”  
“It’s Latin, roughly translates to ‘Far Wanderer’ or ‘Straying’.” Procul reached for the small book in his jacket pocket, revealing his Pip-Boy.  
Left raised his laser rifle. “Pip-Boys are contraband, citizen. Please remove it.”  
“I’m not going to do that.”  
Right also raised his rifle. “Please surrender your Pip-Boy, citizen, or we will be forced to remove it.”  
“It’s not yours to take. This is my property and I’m not giving it up.”  
Left tensed up. Procul wasn’t sure if this Paladin was used to trying to negotiate.  
The air was still humid and warm. The smell of pine wafted through the checkpoint. Right spoke again, breaking the silence. “That Pip-Boy is now Brotherhood property. Surrender it and we will spare your life. Refuse and we WILL kill you.”  
“You don’t want to do this. I’m telling you, you don’t want to do this.”  
Left moved in quickly, reaching with his free hand for the device. Procul knew he didn’t want to do this, but he wasn’t going to give up his Pip-Boy without a fight.  
A few imperceptible gestures and suddenly the world was flooded with light. Everything stopped for a split second. Procul knelt down and picked up his pistol and unsheathed a knife from his boot. Four shots from his pistol in Left’s chest piece. A knife between the upper and forearm, meeting flesh and bone.  
Procul jumped away as Left dropped his rifle and clutched his bleeding arm. He had a few seconds left at best. Had to make the most of them.  
Three steps to cross the gap between Procul and Right. On the way, grab the rifle and fire a single shot from the hip and toss it away. Two shots at Right’s helmet and trigger finger. Another step to get between Right’s arms. Jam the pistol into the seam between the neck and the helmet. Three more shots. Metal ricochets and limpness. Two steps away. Turn around. One last shot. Left’s eyepiece. Shattering glass and a dull thud.  
Then the world began to darken, and Procul felt his stomach lurch. He fell to his knees and vomited. Two dead Brotherhood of Steel Paladins lay dead in their Power Armor. The speaker above him was nothing but static.  
“I didn’t want to do this. Why couldn’t you let me through?” Procul flipped through his Pip-Boy, and found the note.  
“Tell them I loved them. Tell them I loved them all. Tell them I’m sorry I failed.”  
Procul picked up the rest of his gear and kept walking. He knew he was close.


End file.
